<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>sang me sound asleep by cyanica</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066017">sang me sound asleep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanica/pseuds/cyanica'>cyanica</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Study, Dean Winchester In Love, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s15e10 The Heroes' Journey, Existentialism, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Lovesick Dean Winchester, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Missing Scene, Sam Ships It, Synesthesia, dean’s high on laughing gas and gets astronomical basically</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:00:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanica/pseuds/cyanica</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean fell in the same way the stars did. It was hauntingly beautiful in a sad sort of way because it just so happened that ‘love’ was a falling action – a swan dive – and neither of them had wings like they used to. </p><p>Or, Dean is high on nitrous oxide and love, and oh yeah, Sam knows.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sang me sound asleep</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from ‘death bed’ - powfu (yes, the tiktok song). you could listen to that as you read, i swear that song is the embodiment of every fluffy w/ lil angst fic and it’s beautiful uwu. ok this isn’t really fluffy, it’s basically a lot of imagery so idk what to call it.</p><p>maybe a missing scene? slight au? just with a little more interdimensional imagery, and a little less tap dancing ;) also the bois are in the impala that hasn’t broken down for,, reasons.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Euphoria sank up through cloudy, sun-lit air like an intoxicatingly sweet purple haze of pure sunshine that washed over and smothered Dean’s brain in angelic waves. The taste of pastel colours saturated his tongue in a smoothing, melodic warmth and Dean was so in love with the feeling of pure rhapsodic lunacy, he was bathing in it. Every wavelength of sound and colour and touch seemed like the embodiment of velvet against his calloused fingers, or glistening, pink-stained lips against his tainted skin that mended every inch of broken flesh into purified fragments of newly revived pieces of a once beyond damaged soul. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was saved – floating through the many gates of heaven as if he was someone who deserved rapture. He was letting what was left broken and shattered and dead – the pieces of himself he couldn’t distinguish the vibrant colour of – to be abandoned on Earth with the rest of the apocalyptic insanity. The solar flare of his burning soul seemed to smother his senses until they all blazed into one suffocating summer solstice of screaming colours, and everything looked so fucking chaotically beautiful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Electricity zipped between Dean’s connection to the world and centered around him in one glorious cluster of stars and their many constellations. He saw what could’ve been Orion or Scorpius or Cassiopeia (because fuck him if he knew shit about stars) that together burned in beautiful triumph, rained down from the galaxies of celestial heaven and consumed him like fire. The breath of starlight flickered onto his tongue, demanding to be devoured, and so Dean lay in what may as well be the gallows of the Earth, and just basked in eternal bliss as if the world wasn’t disintegrating around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You t’ste like turquoise Gemini, S’mmy…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean let meaningless words that spread across his mouth like cotton leave his lips, while he soaked up the cool warmth of his brother beside him. The deranged syllables washed out from his mouth like the last threads of clarity aching to slip away into smithereens. An azure touch on his shoulder; a blazing cerulean graze down his arm; a cyan that erupted into his mouth with the familiarity of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He could feel his brother’s intoxicating burst of supernatural moonlight dripping from inside his bones with every touch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’re out of your mind on laughing gas.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somewhere, somehow that made sense, in the same way the impala tasted like radiant monochrome colours of white, greys and silvers in all her stunning glory that was rumbling beneath his body. And the blood – normally a putrid, poisonous, infectious black with a scent of metallic copper iron – that was coating the insides of his mouth where teeth should’ve been, tasted like fresh sage and dazzling emerald greens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean felt himself smiling lazily at the amazing awe of colours raining upon his being as if they were falling flames of fire and gas in the darkened, night sky. If being this manic and euphoric, was what ‘normal people’ experience by having their lungs inflated with nitrous oxide that was left to simmer in the wake of their own oxygenated blood, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he would’ve considered sending Chuck a thank you card…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right after he throws up, choking on the foul, asphyxiating sensation that was the absence of colour drowning his soul and polluting it rotten from the mere thought of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’re gonna be sick, I’ll pull the car over. Future-you is gonna be pissed otherwise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean shook his head no, and watched in chaotic mesmerisation as the galaxy of one billion constellations swirled inside his eyes like a nebula of universes – and </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if he didn’t hate the man so much, Dean would have wept at the overwhelming magnificence of his creation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Th’s wh’t angels see?” Dean drawled, pronouncing every syllable as if the English language no longer existed, and he had decided that this kind of beauty couldn’t be described with words that were tainted by existence. His eyes blinked hazily, fighting to bare witness to the black holes, constellations and milky ways that polluted his vision with glorious mania, but was slowly being pulled into the sunken bliss of heavy, smothering nothingness. His eyelids threatened to close, ears ringing in and out amongst a fuzzy tune of old white noise, and mouth coated in the colours that dawned on heaven – but it was everything, and he couldn’t stop living it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can ask Cas.” The azure embodiment that was the familiarity of Sam replied, sounding distant but blissfully content in some vague oxymoron that didn’t fully make sense in Dean’s mind, because something new had taken – </span>
  <em>
    <span>stolen</span>
  </em>
  <span> – everything he thought he knew about the world that had constructed itself around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like a beacon, the crimson light of dying stars falling throughout the galaxy fell and burned around him in the same way falling from heaven felt like – falling in love felt like. Dean wasn’t particularly sure how he even knew either of those concepts, but they just seemed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fit</span>
  </em>
  <span> into place like the pieces of his soul that was meant for Sam – for Cas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas was it all. He was every colour at once, screaming, crashing and beaming with celestial energy into Dean’s insignificant, broken flare of a soul like the sun cascading onto the Earth during the wake of the solar equinox. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean fell in the way the stars did. It was hauntingly beautiful in a sad sort of way to know that he was dying a little more every time –  in the presence of this inter dimensional celestial creation of starlight, galaxies and pure white light – because it just so happened that ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ was a falling action – a swan dive – and neither of them had wings like they used to. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
He would never have chosen to doom Castiel like this if he had a choice – never would have guessed that falling in love meant dropping from the heights of bittersweet escape as two eternally damned souls intertwined as one flesh that took the swan dive together interlocked in each other’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then again, the vortex of galaxies and universes that made up Dean Winchester didn’t decide shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love him, S’mmy.” Dean murmured gently, falling into a different kind of absence where his mouth tasted like ash and the colours died like dying stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The universe – or </span>
  <em>
    <span>fate</span>
  </em>
  <span>, whatever it was – didn’t like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The turquoise blaze of </span>
  <em>
    <span>brother</span>
  </em>
  <span> replied simply, “I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And somehow, he knew future-him was going to be incredibly pissed tomorrow…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>– But current-Dean was too preoccupied with astronomy to care, and then fell asleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>